


Power Trip

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers - MTMTE
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is your satisfaction?<br/>I’ll give you all you need<br/>What do I have to do<br/>To make you want to fall in |?|love|?| with me?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Trip

Prowl watched from the doorway before it hissed shut behind him, and Perceptor turned to face him.

“Perceptor-”

“Not a word from you, Sir.”, was the frigid reply, “No assignments, no favors, no requests.”

Prowl frowned, “…Percy-”

“Per. Cep. Tor.”, sounded out the scientist in annoyance, “You don’t get to call me that, not anymore.”

“Its a fool’s errand, destined for failure or worse. You’d be safer here, where I can keep an eye on things, keep you safe. We’ve worked together well in the past, I’d hate to see you waste your time chasing daydreams.”

Perceptor glared at him, “Of course; where I’m safe and sound, implanting communication and override controls into unknowing mechs for the ‘greater good’ according to the all-knowing TacHead of the Autobot Army; nay, the Autobot _Regime_.”

“Now, Perceptor, when you say it like that it almost makes us sound like some… invading force. This **is** the defense movement you belong to.”

“That died the day I helped Kup regain function.”, spat Perceptor, “I’m not some starry-eyed lab assistant anymore Prowl. Your titles don’t dazzle me and your carefully chosen words don’t faze me.”

Prowl’s doorwings twitched as he continued closer, more predator than comrade at this point, “Truly, you make taking my orders sound so… traumatizing.”

“I modified one of my own kind without their knowledge, with something they have always been against the use of.”, said Perceptor flatly, “You _manipulated_ me into forgoing my own morals.”

“I’d say you were quite willing.”, was the smooth answer, crooned to the scientist as the tips of servos traced his jawline even as it tensed from the touch, “Say what you will about my methods, but I never forced you to agree to _anything_. There **are** levels I refuse to sink to.”

The touch faded from Perceptor’s jaw, to trail over a chestplate that couldn’t be broken, and yet still could be bypassed.

“You don’t have all the control you think you do.”, murmured Perceptor, feeling Prowl’s free hand against the back of his neck and pulling him back down into a trap he fell into once before, when he was a rookie and still eager to please.

He let their lipplates meet, a rumbled growl in his chest as he grabbed Prowl and pulled him closer. No longer eye-level with the TacHead, he used the slight height advantage the best he could, pressing into the kiss with the kind of vicious passion only boiling distate and the keen edge of blooming hatred could cause.

And then they were stumbling back, thudding into Perceptor’s old desk unit and Prowl was panting as his neck cables were bitten almost too hard.

Almost.

Prowl hissed softly, back bent as Perceptor bore down on him. Being in the Wreckers had changed the young scientist that now held the tactician in a clever grasp. 

Prowl’s fingers flickered over the base of the shoulder-mounted scope, making Perceptor shudder as another kiss started, rough and vicious and more a battle than a passionate touch.

Prowl sank into it with a moan, and then Perceptor pulled back just enough to whisper against Prowl’s lips and send the commander-manipulator into a hellfire rage.

_“Drift tastes **far** better.”_

Prowl shoved the scientist away with a snarl, glaring at the cruel grin on the ex-Wrecker’s face as Perceptor took an easy step back; the shove barely registering. Prowl wiped his mouth on the back of his own wrist, glaring coldly at his once “loyal” scientist.

Perceptor laughed mirthlessly, “Is there anything else you wish to discuss? Lewd as the discussion may be become, given your current… tactics.”

Doorwings high in anger, Prowl narrowed his eyes.

“May Primus throw you out of an airlock and remove one more annoyance from my existence.”

Perceptor’s smile became demure, “Why Prowl, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve wished for me yet. Almost as lovely as the _fun_ little unit assignment you gave me back before I knew how to use a weapon.”

Prowl’s glare only increased in it’s fury, optics bright and frame tense.

Perceptor took a step closer, tilting his helm with that infuriatingly calm smile, that emotionless curve of his mouth that was too thin to be joyful.

Prowl watched as Perceptor reached out, hooking his trigger finger under Prowl’s chin to force the TacHead to look him in the optics, “I have a little wish for you too, since we’re trading sweet nothings before I leave on my no-doubt cursed voyage.”

Prowl shuttered his optics as Perceptor whispered in that clipped, precise voice far too close to the tactician’s audials, “May you be haunted by the memories we made in that lab; and taunted by the what-ifs of the ways I may have changed for the _**better**_.”

A thumb swiped over Prowl’s lips as Perceptor pulled away just enough to enjoy the mental turmoil that showed briefly in Prowl’s angry expression, the subtle shift of hips; and then the scientist pulled fully away, moving to sort through a small stack of datapads.

Prowl swallowed his snarl, stalking back to the door and pausing, “Enjoy your little adventure… and your Decepticon in Autobot plating.”

“At least I know where Drift is.. and who he’s with.”, retorted Perceptor with a bitter chuckle, “Tell me, how is Jazz?”

Prowl wasn’t able to bite back the growl that rumbled from him.

Perceptor shot an amused look at him, “Been quite some time since you saw your pet SpecOps agent, _hasn’t it_?”

Prowl tapped the pad by the door, stomping out as it hissed shut behind him to the tune of Perceptor humming a long forgotten tune.

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash and revel in my own filth.


End file.
